


Three's Company

by sharkie335



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Incest, Multi, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-21
Updated: 2010-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a hunt for some vampires, Sam and Dean meet an interesting stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written before we saw vampires on Supernatural.

It was already dark as Sam and Dean pulled into the campground, and the temptation was great to go find a hotel for the night. A hotel meant a real bed, it meant relatively private showers, it meant AC... But all the signs pointed to this campground having a problem with vampires, and neither of them wanted to take a risk on someone else dying just so that they could take it easy tonight.

Dean went in to pay for the spot. The girl behind the counter was almost pathetically happy that customers were checking in, and her next words confirmed it. "Feel free to take any spot you like. We don't have anyone else here." And that was wrong - it was the middle of summer, the campground should have been packed, not empty.

Making idle chitchat while she ran his credit card - Huminski was the name today - he flirted a little and when she handed the card back he asked, "What time do you get off?" She was cute, and so obviously bored that Dean almost felt like he had to try.

"My boyfriend is picking me up at seven," she answered just as Sam came through the door.

Ignoring the chuckles coming from his brother, Dean picked up a map of the campground and pretended nonchalance, and not like he'd just been turned down so quick. "So, anywhere, huh?"

"Yep."

"Thanks for your help." He grabbed the still-laughing Sam by his arm and dragged him out of the little office. "Not one word."

"How about two? Shot down?" Sam snickered and then put on a face of fake calm as Dean spun on him.

"Let's just go get our tent up, okay?" Dean was grateful for the dark, which hid his blush. He didn't care when he got nowhere with a girl, but to strike out in front of his little brother was still embarrassing.

Thankfully, Sam had learned some discretion in the last few years, and he went along fairly quietly, sliding into the car and pointing out the line of sites furthest out. "Those are right next to the tree line, and according to the papers, that's where the campers have been disappearing."

Dean nodded and steered the car around a gaping pothole in the middle of the road. "So, that would be where we'd want to set up, then?"

"Yeah." A few seconds later, Dean pulled up and parked the car. The two of them slid out of the car and smoothly went about setting up a camp. The tent was small, but serviceable, and with their sleeping bags, fairly comfortable. Then Sam started a fire while Dean took care of the most important thing - weapons.

Both of them had their guns, of course, but they were fairly useless against vampires. That meant stakes, holy water, and placed right at the entrance of the tent, a machete. Once everything was in place, it was time to eat.

Sam was cooking tonight - hot dogs and potato chips. Of course, cooking was kind of a generous word for what was being done to those poor dogs... "Hey! I don't want mine black, okay?"

He swore and snatched the sticks out of the fire. "Goddamn it, Dean - you're the one who knows all this stuff."

"Not because Dad and I didn't try to teach you, Sammy boy."

"How about some dirt with your hot dog?" Sam asked sweetly.

"Okay, okay, _Sam_. Hand over the dog and no one gets hurt." Sam looked mutinous, like he might dump it in the dirt anyway, but he gave Dean the hot dog.

They ate quietly, talking casually, but their eyes never stopped moving over the tree line, which is how the sound of a vehicle surprised them. Sam stood up, watching the ratty van pull in as Dean kept an eye on the trees.

"Nice evening," Sam called out as the driver stepped out. He looked to be about 5'4" or so, and his hair... Sam did a double take. His hair was _green_. Not typically what you found in a campsite.

"Yep," the guy grunted as he went around to the back of the van. Instead of pulling out a tent, though, the guy just left the doors open to the night air and set about starting his own fire.

Shrugging, Sam turned his attention back to Dean and the fire. "Not very friendly," Dean observed quietly. "Think he could be our guy?"

"Don't know. We'll just keep an eye out." Both of them settled back against the log that had probably been put there for just this purpose. It took an effort to keep from making their repeated glances over into the other campsite obvious, but the new guy seemed oblivious, heating up something on a camp stove and then climbing into the van.

It was something of a surprise, then, when he came out a moment later, carrying a guitar. "Do you mind?" he called over, his voice pleasant.

They both shrugged, and Dean called back, "No, it's fine."

He didn't play anything in particular, just noodling around on the guitar, but it was pleasant sounding, and eventually Sam turned to Dean. "I think it's time for one of us to get some shut eye. Flip for it?"

"Nah. I'm good. Why don't you get some sleep if you can, and I'll wake you in a couple of hours?" Dean really wanted to listen some more, and it was a nice evening. Besides, maybe Sam would get some real sleep if it was early enough.

Nodding, Sam crawled into the tent and within minutes was curled up on top of one of the bags, out cold.

Dean sat for a while longer, listening for sounds of Sam having one of his nightmares, but all he could hear was the guitar from the next campsite and the soft sounds of Sam breathing. Eventually he stood up and dusted off the seat of his jeans. Walking to the invisible line separating the two sites, he stood and watched the guy play.

When he noticed, he stopped. "Hey."

"Hey there. You're pretty good on that thing."

"Lots of practice." He stood up with an easy grace and crossed to where Dean was standing, holding out a hand. "Oz."

"Hi, Oz. I'm Dean, and my brother Sam's the one in the tent."

"Nice to meet you. Sorry about earlier. Tired from the road."

Dean nodded. "I hear that. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll get out of your hair." Without realizing it, Dean's gaze drifted upward to the green hair.

"Hey, chicks dig it. Don't knock it." But Oz was grinning, like he knew exactly the kinds of things that Dean was probably thinking. Then he lifted his head, like he was _sniffing_. He cocked his head and shot a strange look at Dean. "But it's getting late and I should crash out for a while. Thanks for the audience."

 _That was odd_ Dean thought as he agreed and walked back to the fire pit. Oz disappeared inside his van, and there came the sounds of someone settling in for the night. _Well, that's one way to avoid paying for hotel rooms_.

He watched the woods in the darkness for a while, but nothing was moving, and by the time Sam started to gasp and thrash, it was time for them to switch off anyway. As he bent down to wake Sam, though, a weight hit his back, and yanked on his collar.

Grunting, he called, "Sam," and fought to spin around so he could face his attacker. Whoever it was had a good grip, though, and he was being pulled backwards. "Sam!"

He could _hear_ Sam wake up, and the gasp as he took in the situation. "Dean, drop!"

Dean did just that, letting his body weight force the issue. He heard his t-shirt rip and then a roar as a gun went off above his head. His attacker gasped and recoiled backwards, which gave Sam a chance to get to his feet and run to Dean's side, stakes at the ready. Spinning on his knees, Dean looked as well.

It had been a teenage girl, and she was thoughtfully fingering the hole that Sam's glock had left in her shirt. Behind her... _oh, shit_ , thought Dean, _we could be in real trouble here_ , because there were at least fifteen more behind her.

Then Oz climbed out of his van, and Dean swore. "Shit, Oz, get down!" but it was too late - three of the vampires broke off and started to circle him. Before he could do anything, one of them grabbed Oz and was dragging him off.

Dean jumped to his feet and tried to plough through the remaining vampires, trying to get to the civilian, only to hear growling that made the hair on the back of his neck go up. Sam managed to duck under his arm and dust the vampire that would have grabbed him in that moment, and then shoved him. "Man, get with the program - time to kill some vampires!"

He shook his head, and then turned his attention to fighting them off, killing as many as they could. Dust filled the air, and they had just put down the last one when the growling got louder, and it pulled his attention back to the tree line just in time to see two vampires running, followed by... "Holy shit! What is that thing?" Sam exclaimed.

It didn't really matter, as it was chasing the two vampires, and as they watched, it caught one and ripped its head off. The second was so busy watching behind it that it didn't even notice that he was running straight into Sam, who caught it and held it just long enough for Dean to swing the machete, beheading the thing in one stroke.

The creature stopped, then, sitting on its haunches and looking at the two of them. It whined, deep in its throat, and then backed off. Sam whispered to Dean, "I don't get it - why isn't it attacking?"

Dean shrugged, still watching it carefully. He was as confused as Sam, especially once the creature laid down on the ground, still watching them. Then it closed its eyes, sighed, and gave a shudder, leaving Oz lying in its place, naked.

"Holy shit! Oz!" Dean exclaimed, and went over, offering his hand. Oz took it and used it to pull himself to his feet. He was completely unselfconscious, standing there nude, but Dean felt like he couldn't figure out where to look.

"Let me -" and Oz gestured towards his van. Dean nodded, and then belatedly let go of his hand, so that he could go get dressed.

Within a few minutes, Oz was back out, clothed in cargo pants and hoodie. "Hell on the clothes."

"What -"

But Sam cut in. "You're a werewolf, aren't you?" Dean stared from Sam to Oz and back again, waiting for a denial that didn't come.

Nodding, he silently agreed. Then Oz cocked his head and looked at the two of them, and sniffed the air again. "You're hunters."

"No! Well, yes, but we're not hunting you... unless you eat people?" Dean fumbled, trying to explain himself and failing. So weird - he didn't usually have a problem, but the reality was that normally they _would_ be hunting Oz for being a werewolf. It had never really occurred to him that one would help them.

"Nope, no people. Don't usually need to change at all, but, well..." And Oz gestured off towards the woods that had concealed the vampire nest. Dean nodded.

Sam looked from one to the other, and then shrugged. "Do you know if there are any more still out there?"

"Not that I can tell, but I've been wrong before. I plan to hang around for a day or so and make sure."

Dean jumped in before Sam could say anything. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Unless you mind us staying?"

Oz shook his head, his mouth quirking up. Sam shook his head and then said softly to Dean, "I'm going to go catch some more sleep, okay?"

Dean nodded to him, and watched as Sam crawled into the tent and curled up in the blankets. He didn't even realize that Oz had moved closer until he spoke up. "He okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine." Raising his voice slightly, so that Sam could hear, he added, "He's just a big pussy." A soft laugh responded from the tent, and Dean could see Sam flipping him off.

"Okay." And Oz turned to go back to his own camp. For whatever reason, though, Dean wanted... something.

"Wait!" He turned back and looked at Dean curiously. "Do you - Want to just hang out for a while? I've got too much energy to sleep. Thought maybe we could go over there and... talk."

"Won't we keep Sam awake?" Oz asked, nodding towards the tent. Then he licked his lips, and Dean realized just how badly he needed to get laid.

"No, when he sleeps, he sleeps hard. Short of setting off a bomb in the tent, he'll sleep right through it."

Oz didn't say anything, just nodded. Turning, he went back to his campsite and settled on the log next to the fire, poking it up.

Dean settled on the ground next to him, staring into the flames. He'd gotten kind of far away when Oz asked, "So, you two lovers?"

"What? No! Sam's my brother!" It wasn't the first time that someone had made that mistake, but the tiny twist in Dean's stomach never got any better when he denied it, a little voice that said, _Maybe there's something to this_.

"Ah," Oz stared at him for a minute longer, and then turned back to the fire. "I wondered why you smelled alike."

 _Not gonna ask. Not gonna ask. Aw, hell._ "Smell alike?"

"Gun oil and sweat. Fear and pain and excitement." There was a pause, and then Oz finished, flatly, "Lust."

Dean had been with him right up to that point. "Lust?" he responded, voice cracking.

Oz didn't elaborate, just nodded, staring at the fire. Dean sat back hard, trying to think. He had to admit his thoughts about his little brother weren't exactly virtuous to start with. But there was no way that Sam shared them, even though Dean knew that he didn't always keep his interest on the girls. "Maybe he was reacting to you?" he muttered, trying to fit the pieces together.

"If you say so," Oz's voice was doubting, and Dean turned to look at him.

He didn't look like he doubted that Sam found him attractive. In fact, Oz seemed well aware of - and amused by - the fact that apparently both Winchester boys had been entertaining less than chaste thoughts about him. Dean stepped down ruthlessly on what he might have doubted instead, and leaned towards Oz, hesitantly.

Oz smiled and leaned forward as well, and their lips met with a soft sound. Dean was cautious, though, and didn't try to deepen the kiss until Oz opened his mouth for him. Then he came up on his knees, hands tangling in Oz's short hair, and kissing him hard and deep.

The taste was hot and wild, spicy and fierce. Dean wasn't surprised to find himself struggling for dominance in the kiss, or that Oz would pull up his shirt to knead the muscles in his back.

He _was_ surprised when Oz broke the kiss to spin and stare over his shoulder at the other campsite. When Dean knelt up to look over Oz, he saw Sam standing at the entrance of their tent, watching them.

Dean started to back off, move away from Oz, but was stopped by Oz's grip on his arm. "Sam? Why don't you come over?"

He held his breath as Sam hesitated, but then had to push back from Oz and take a deep breath to keep control as Sam walked over and sat down next to Oz on the log. The struggle got worse as Oz tugged Sam forward and kissed him.

For a long time, Dean was content to just watch the two of them, but then Oz's hand sought out his hair, tugging him forward, and for the first time since they were kids, he was kissing his brother. It started chaste, simply lips pressing to lips, but then Oz joined in, and the three of them were kissing. It was awkward, and messy, and so fucking hot that Dean couldn't breathe.

When they finally stopped, Dean couldn't help staring at his brother in shock. He'd wanted this - wanted it so badly - but he'd never been willing to admit it to himself, much less his brother. From the look on his brother's face - like he'd just been smacked with a two-by-four - he was having a similar revelation.

Sam spoke up for the first time. "Maybe, uh, we should take this inside somewhere?"

Oz grinned and stood up, holding out his hands to both brothers and pulling them to their feet with a strength out of proportion to his size. "My van is right here, guys. And it's bigger than your tent."

The three of them climbed in the back door, kneeling in the back of the full-sized van, and Oz pulled the doors shut. For a long moment, the three of them stared at each other, then Sam and Dean both nodded and turned their attentions to Oz.

Sam went high, pulling Oz in for a kiss. Dean went low, tackling the heavy belt that he was wearing and tugging down his jeans. Oz was hard, and Dean ran his tongue in a straight line up from his heavy sac to the very tip.

Oz moaned and went still under the dual assault. Dean glanced up at Sam and saw good humor and lust in his eyes. Turning his attention back to the cock in front of him, he licked and sucked till Oz couldn't keep still, twisting and moaning, a hand in Dean's hair. Finally, Dean pulled back, going back to watching his brother kiss Oz like he needed it more than he needed air.

When Sam pulled back, Oz chased after his mouth with a sobbing, hitching breath, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "What do you want, Oz?"

Taking a shuddering breath, Oz visibly brought himself back under control, and then smiled at each of them in turn. "I think... maybe there could be some serious sex going on, but for that to happen I think we all need to lose some clothes."

Dean nodded and struggled back to his knees, only to stop, mouth dry, as Sam dropped his jeans. He'd seen his brother naked many times, but he'd never seen him _hard_ and fuck, he was beautiful.

When Sam looked back at him, Dean shook his head and started working on getting out of his far-too-tight jeans. Once they were all naked, Oz crouched down and took a dick in each hand. Grinning, he looked up and said, "So many possibilities..."

Tentatively, Dean reached over to Sam and pulled him close, kissing him softly. Sam moaned and deepened the kiss, leaving Dean panting and disoriented, only coming back when the hand on his cock stopped moving.

Turning his attention back to Oz, he kissed him and ran one hand all the way down his back to the cleft of his ass. At the intake of breath from Sam, he turned to look at him. "Sammy?"

Sam was playing with his own cock, his eyes locked on Dean's hand. "Fuck, that's hot."

Oz smiled. "You want to watch? Or you want me to be the filling in a sandwich?"

Clutching at the base of his dick, Sam moaned. "Oh, god, yeah."

Dean couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His mind was filled with images of Sam, lying on his back, letting Oz fuck him, of fucking Sam _through_ Oz. Oz looked at Dean and gave another one of those secretive little smiles, like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Turning away, Oz bent over a small bag at the side of the van and pulled out a bottle and a strip of condoms. Tossing them on the mattress that filled the back of the van; he looked from one to the other.

Sam made the first move, picking up the bottle and looking at it, then tossing it to Dean. Dry mouthed, he opened it and slicked up two of his fingers while Sam laid down. Oz knelt over Sam and reached around for the bottle. Dean had to think before he could hand it to Oz, who looked at him hard before pouring some out on his own hand.

Legs spread, Sam locked his eyes on Dean as Oz started to prepare him, fingers sliding easily into his opening. Dean shook his head and knelt behind Oz, sliding his own fingers back into that hidden cleft, circling his opening and slicking it, before sliding one finger in. He was hot, and tight, and Dean groaned, wanting into that heat.

It felt like forever, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before Oz turned back to him from the careful attention he'd been paying to his brother. "Ready?"

Dean nodded, letting Oz take the lead as he got a rubber and slid it into place, slathering slick over top. Sam lifted his legs, pulling them back to his chest, and Oz lined up his cock and pressed it home. Dean hesitated, looking at the pretty picture they made before Oz looked at him and said in a strained voice, "Now, Dean."

Shifting over behind Oz, he got his own rubber in place and then he was sliding into that tight heat. He moaned, eyes practically rolling back at the feeling.

It took them a few minutes to figure out how to move, but once they did, it was like nothing Dean had ever felt before. The voices of the three men braided together, making their own sort of music that just added to all the other sensations.

Every stroke felt like sliding into heaven, and it was a fight to pull back out. Oz had Sam practically folded double, kissing him, and Dean licked his own lips, wishing that he could taste Sam's.

Not surprisingly, Oz was the one who said, "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna c-come..." Sam took his dick in hand and started stroking it, and Dean couldn't help it, he slammed into Oz hard, feeling and hearing Sam grunt as Oz went even deeper.

Oz thrust once, twice, three times and then froze, his passage clenching hard around Dean's dick. Somehow, he managed to hold back until Sam was coming, but then he couldn't take anymore, and with a cry, he came hard, shaking and shuddering for a long time after.

He pulled out with a groan, and then had to laugh as Sam swore at the sensation of Oz sliding free. They arranged themselves on the mattress, and Dean closed his eyes with a sigh.

Sleep was slow to come, though. Dean wasn't sure why - he was exhausted between the fight earlier and then the sex, but he just couldn't settle down. The fourth time he turned over, Oz sighed and turned to face him. "Switch with me?"

"Um, okay." Oz crawled over him carefully, and Dean rolled so he was against Sam, who promptly curled around him, letting out a small snore.

Comfortable at last, Dean finally relaxed. He wasn't sure what was going to happen tomorrow, but he'd come closer to finally getting his number one unnamed fantasy, and that was worth being happy about.


	2. Two's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Oz left...

Sam and Dean watched as the van pulled away from the campsite. It hadn't taken long to clear the woods this morning - tracking a vampire nest was apparently easy for a werewolf - and Oz had decided to go ahead and clear out, since he had someone to meet in Philly.

On the other hand, they didn't have anywhere to be right away, and without a job lined up it seemed like the wisest course of action would be to take a break for a few days and rest while they could. Soon enough things would get hectic again.

As the van disappeared past the showers, Dean turned to look at Sam, who ducked his head and refused to meet his eyes. _Aw, crap. He's freaking about last night._ "Sam?"

"I'm going to get cleaned up. Be back in a little while." Sam was already moving towards the tent as he talked, obviously looking for the bag of toiletries.

"Wait for a minute and I'll come with you." Dean didn't particularly want to talk about it, but he knew that if he left Sam to brood, things would only get worse. Sam in a bad mood was _never_ fun, and one in a funk wasn't any better.

"Uh, okay." Sam stood back up, holding the bag and his gun, which he tucked into the back of his jeans.

Dean hurriedly grabbed his own gun and duffel containing clean clothes and towels. "You think there's a laundromat up there? If we're going to be here a few days we should probably do some laundry, maybe take a couple of hours to clean the weapons we don't use often."

Sam visibly relaxed as Dean's words registered. "Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll tell you what - I'll deal with laundry if _you_ take care of dinner."

Grinning, Dean agreed. "Deal, but only because I don't want burnt hot dogs for dinner again tonight. Remind me why dad let you get away without being in the boy scouts?"

"Because I nearly set fire to our tent every time we went camping."

"Right, I'd forgotten that." Dean smiled even wider. "Good thing for you that Dad never caught on that you _did_ set it on fire at least once."

"No, I didn't!" Dean just waited, and then saw memory catch up. "Well, only once, and it was an accident!"

"Riiiiight..."

Bickering, they made their way up the hill. Dean was happy to see that Sam was smiling and no longer trying to avoid looking him in the eye. As much as he'd enjoyed the night before, he wasn't willing to give up the relationship he had with Sam to get more of it.

When they walked into the shower room, though, both of them hesitated. It was one big room, without individual cubicles or privacy, and for a moment, Dean contemplated backing away. But, taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the bench and started matter of factly stripping off. The surest way to spook Sam would be to change their normal routine, and if he dithered about showering in front of him, that would just be...

"Weird," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked, a little disturbed to have his thoughts mirrored by Sam's well-chosen word. He stood there, barefoot and bare-chested, jeans unbuckled, waiting for Sam to explain himself.

"This is all weird. Nothing has really changed, but it feels like everything has." Slowly, Sam stripped off his shirt, folding it haphazardly and sticking it on the bench.

"Well," Dean swallowed hard, "I can think of something to try - it'll either de-weird things or it'll make it worse - up to you."

Sam tipped his head to one side, obviously contemplating this. "I think - I'm willing to take the chance that it'll weird things up more."

"Then close your eyes, Sam." When he had, Dean leaned in and kissed him gently.

The kiss only lasted a second, maybe two, but when Dean pulled away, Sam was smiling. "There. Is that better?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I really think it is. Let's get clean, okay?"

Dean couldn't help the chuckle, but he agreed readily enough and finished stripping. Stepping into the shower area, he picked one towards the end, leaving the choice of how close Sam wanted to be up to him. He had to admit that he was more than a little relieved when Sam picked the shower next to his.

Then he had to reevaluate how relieved he was, because Sam naked, right next to him? Was having a very predictable effect on his libido. He turned his back and took several deep breaths, trying to get his dick to listen to him, that right here and right now was _not_ the place to get ideas, only to have a hand touch him gently between the shoulder blades. "Dean?"

"I'm okay." And he was, even if his voice was a bit strangled, and all the blood in his brain was draining to a spot quite a bit lower.

The hand stroked softly down his spine, pulling away just above his ass, and Dean couldn't help the whimper that rose in his throat. This time it was Sam who laughed, low and quiet. "I'm sorry. I'm not meaning to tease. It's just - "

"Weird," they both said together.

Dean turned to face Sam, making no effort to hide the effect of Sam's touch. "You can touch me any way you want, Sammy. I'm never going to tell you no - and I'm never going to make you do something that you don't want."

Sam rested his hand on Dean's chest, staring at it in fascination. Dean just worked to keep his breathing slow and even as fingers followed the path of a drop of water down over his stomach. "I'm not going to stop you, but we might want to consider moving this back to our tent?"

It seemed to take Sam a minute to realize what Dean had said, but then he dropped his hand as if it had been burnt. "Yeah, maybe that would be good."

Trying not to show how much he wanted that simple touch back, Dean nodded and started to wash off with long strokes of the washcloth. The water was hot, and practically forced his muscles to relax, so by the time he was done, he felt like no matter what Sam wanted, he'd be able to go along with it.

He turned off the water and glanced at Sam, who was rinsing off. "I'm going to get dressed. Meet you?" Sam nodded, and Dean stepped out of the shower. Drying off, he forced himself not to watch Sam still getting clean. When he was done and dressed, Sam had stepped out. Dean bit his lip and left the building.

When he got to the campsite, he opened the trunk of the Impala. Keep busy, that's what he needed to do. So, what weapons needed cleaning?

Selecting several of the knives from their sheaths, he pulled out the oil and whetstone. Settling next to the fire pit, he started sharpening them, pretending that he wasn't watching the bathhouse to see Sam. He'd already cleaned and sharpened two blades before he finally saw him come out and stand at the top of the hill, staring at Dean.

Seeing this, he didn't even try to hide that he was watching as well, and for several minutes the two of them just looked at each other. Finally, Sam appeared to have screwed up his courage and came down the hill. So as not to intimidate him or make him even more nervous, Dean turned his attention back to the knife in his hand, focusing on keeping each stroke slow and even.

Sam settled down across from Dean, and took one out one of the wicked blades that he carried in his bag. Accepting the spare whetstone and oil, they sat in quiet, cleaning their respective weapons.

Dean had gotten lost in the routine, feeling every _shhh_ of blade over stone, when Sam broke the silence. "Do you want this, Dean?" One look at his face, and it was clear he wasn't offering an object.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I want it." He aborted a move towards Sam, instead giving in to years of training and finishing cleaning the knife in his hand first. Rolling to his feet, he took the knives to the Impala and locked them in the trunk. Only then did he look at Sam again, who had tucked his weapon away and was watching him.

Holding out his hand, he waited to see if Sam would take it. When he did, Dean felt his heart stop. This was really happening. Leading the way to the tent, he hesitated at the entrance, letting Sam go in at his own pace.

The tent was small - just long enough for Sam to stretch out, and certainly not tall enough for either of them to stand. Instead, Dean sunk down so he was sitting cross-legged and looked at Sam, who stared back. "Now what?"

"Maybe we should -" and Dean leaned forward so that he could brush his lips over Sam's. Once, twice, and then a third time, before he pulled back and waited for Sam's reaction. Sam's eyes were closed, and he lifted his hand and brushed it over his own lips. Then, eyes still shut; he leaned forward and kissed Dean back.

It was like a shock passed through him, from the top of his head to his feet. He couldn't breathe, his heart was racing, and he was suddenly, achingly hard. He fisted his hands in the sleeping bag under him to resist the urge to reach out and grab. "Fuck, Sammy..."

Sam grinned and then kissed him again, this time opening his mouth so that Dean could taste him. It took everything he had not to just grab Sam in that moment and ravage his mouth, instead taking it gentle and exploring slowly. This time, when they came apart, it was Sam who looked like he'd been hit with a two by four.

Dean smiled. "It's your call, Sam. Whatever you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything." Even with that, Dean was surprised when Sam practically crawled into his lap, tangling his hands in his hair and tipping his face for a kiss. This one was thorough and hot, and by the time Sam bit his lip and pulled away, Dean was gasping.

When Sam let go of his hair and ran his hands up his chest, Dean couldn't control the small shudder of need and want. He was so hot, wanted this so badly, that when Sam lifted his shirt and touched naked flesh for the first time, he moaned. Loudly.

The expression on Sam's face was full of longing, and when he tugged on Dean's shirt, all he could do was nod. The shirt came off, and Sam ducked his head, running a broad tongue over Dean's nipple. Dean's hands were tight knots in an effort to avoid grabbing at Sam.

"Sam," his voice was strangled and tight. "I need - "

Looking up, Sam studied his face for a moment, and then pulled back just far to pull off his own shirt. "Touch me, Dean. Please?"

He didn't have to ask twice. Dean tentatively ran his hands over the strong muscles of Sam's back, chuckling at the moan that rose at the touch. When he scratched lightly, though, he was surprised at the reaction he got. Sam shoved him down, so that they were both lying stretched out, kissing him hard. What had been gentle and sweet was rapidly becoming heated, and Dean couldn't find it in himself to slow things down.

When Sam groped at his belt buckle, he groaned, long and low, and lifted his hips so that Sam could tug his pants down. Sam's jeans rubbed roughly against his hard cock, and he gasped. "Oh, god, Sammy..." He clutched at Sam's waist. "Can I -"

"Anything," Sam said, echoing Dean's promise of earlier. It was a matter of only a few moments to get Sam out of them, and for the first time, they were naked together with no one in between. At the first touch of skin on skin, both of them moaned, and without talking about it, they arranged themselves so that their cocks rubbed together.

It all felt so good, and the kissing was making everything even more intense. Dean finally gave in and rolled them over so he was stretched out on top of Sam. Breaking off the kiss, he started nibbling on Sam's neck and down over his collarbone. He moaned, relaxing into the sleeping bag beneath him. Dean lifted his head so he could look into Sam's face. "Okay?"

"Oh, _hell_ yes," Sam said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Dean gave him an answering smile and dropped his head back down, so that he could kiss Sam's chest. The skin under his lips shivered, and he breathed warm air over it, followed by a sharp nip.

Gradually, he worked his way down, spending long minutes licking and sucking Sam's nipples before going further down and biting at his stomach. Sam laughed, and Dean smiled against his skin. Sam had _always_ been ticklish.

Ignoring the temptation to tickle Sam thoroughly, he moved again, curling up so that his head was level with Sam's cock. Slowly, giving him a chance to object, he wrapped his hand around Sam's cock. Before he could do what he really wanted, though, Sam stopped him with a hand in his hair. "Turn around."

 _Oh,_ fuck _yes_. It took some doing, but eventually they were arranged on their sides. At long last, he did what he'd wanted for so long, and sucked the head of Sam's cock into his mouth. He had to moan, though, when exactly Sam mirrored his action. He took more in, and tongued the spot just under the head, trying to focus on what he was doing to his brother.

Hard to do, though, when Sam seemed determined to drive him out of his mind. He could tell that Sam hadn't done this much, if at all, but his endearing clumsiness was just that much hotter.

When Sam's fingers trailed a line down over his opening, Dean choked. Suddenly, the dick he'd been sucking on disappeared, as did the mouth on his own. Sam sat up and started pounding on his back. "You okay, Dean?"

He just growled and tackled Sam back down. "I'm fine." But the grin on Sam's face told him that he knew that, that he'd been fucking with him, and Dean bounced lightly where he was sitting on Sam's stomach. "You little shit!"

Now the grin became an outright laugh, and Dean felt a need to wipe it off Sam's face, so he leaned down and kissed him deeply, shifting down so that Sam's cock was nestled along his ass.

It worked, Sam going rigid beneath him and barely breathing. "Dean?"

"You want it, Sam?"

Next thing he knew, Sam had flipped them over and was kissing him hungrily. "Yeah, I want it," he said between kisses.

Trying not to break the kiss, Dean groped for his toiletry bag. It was just out of reach, though, and he ripped his head to one side, muttering as he grabbed it. Pulling out the bottle of lube, he grabbed for where he kept condoms, only to come up empty. "Shit!"

Now Sam _was_ laughing, openly. "Shut up, you prick."

But Sam kept laughing, eventually collapsing to one side, leaving Dean staring at him in frustration. It took a while, but he gave in and started to chuckle as well. Every time they looked at each other, they started all over again.

Still laughing weakly, Sam reached over to his own tap kit, and pulled out a strip of condoms. Tossing them so they landed on Dean's chest, he studiously avoided looking at Dean.

For his part, Dean closed his eyes and wound his hands into Sam's hair, tugging him down for a kiss. He was rapidly becoming addicted to his brother's lips.

Both of them sobered quickly after that, and Sam picked up the bottle of Astroglide. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just shut up and fuck me already."

Sam slicked up his fingers and slowly slid one into Dean's entrance. Felt so good, so. very. fucking. good. and he couldn't help arching his back, trying to get it deeper. Sam was staring at the point where his finger was sliding in and out of Dean's body, and the look on his face...

"Hey, bro," said Dean, running one hand along Sam's cheek. "It's all good, Sammy."

Nuzzling into Dean's hand, Sam added another finger. "You know we're a couple of sick bastards, right?"

Dean couldn't help the smile. "Yeah, but we're sick bastards together." Then Sam's fingers brushed over that spot deep inside, and Dean had to stop talking. Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he squeezed it tightly, trying not to come.

Then he felt empty as the fingers slid out, and he cried out. "Oh, please, please, please..." Sam shifted, obviously trying to get the condom wrapper open, but Dean didn't care. He wanted it, now.

"Hold on, bro - just hold on..." And then there was broad pressure at his entrance, and then an almost audible _pop_ as he slid through.

"Aw, fuck, yeah..." Dean shifted, trying to get Sam to go faster, further, but Sam seemed determined to take it as slow as he could. Finally, in desperation, Dean wrapped his legs around Sam's hips and pulled him in, fast and hard.

After all the lead up, it couldn't last long. When Dean wrapped his hand around his own cock and started touching his own cock, Sam groaned and started moving faster. Every stroke pressed over that one spot, ratcheting Dean up higher, and when Sam leaned down and kissed him, he fell.

By the time he came back to himself, Sam was moving slowly, languorously, inside of him. He grinned down at Dean. "Ready to see what I've learned over the last few years?"

Dean couldn't help it - it sounded like a challenge and he'd never been able to resist a challenge. "What's that, college boy?"

Sam knelt up, pulling Dean up on his thighs. This angle pressed the head of Sam's cock _right_ into his hot spot, and when Sam began to move, Dean swore. "Oh, holy buggering fuck - do that again!"

For his part, Sam just smiled and continued to move, slow and sweet. Dean didn't know what his little brother had been doing at school, but whatever it was, he was thanking _christ_ for it now, because he was already getting hard again. Every stroke was just absolute perfection, so when Sam pulled out, Dean thought he could be forgiven for getting just a little pissed. "Sam! Why the hell are you stopping?"

"Turn over, Dean. Just... trust me."

In the close confines of the tent, it took some doing to get themselves rearranged, but when Sam slid back in, Dean forgave him almost instantly. It felt so good that when Sam pressed on his shoulder, he obediently dropped his chest to the floor, and then gasped.

The contact was both more immediate and more constant, and Dean reached down between his legs to where Sam's cock was splitting him open. That finally seemed to be enough to crack Sam, who did a little swearing of his own. "Christ, Dean. You keep doing that and..." Dean grinned into the pillow he was leaning against, and stretched a little further, managing to just barely touch Sam's balls.

"I want you to come, Sammy. Don't - don't hold back anymore." Sam groaned and slammed hard into Dean, who pushed back into the stroke.

It became a battle between the two of them, Sam pushing and Dean pushing back. Sam's hands grew tight on his hips, and both of them were panting and breathing hard. Sam seemed determined to hold on forever, and while Dean loved every second, he wanted to feel Sam come.

A couple more strokes, and it didn't matter if Sam was going to come or not, because Dean _was_ , again. As he clenched down tight around the cock in his ass, Sam groaned and slammed one more time into him, harder than before.

This time, Dean couldn't control his muscles anymore, and collapsed. Sam followed him down, lying on his back until Dean realized he couldn't breathe. "Sammy?"

"It's Sam, dammit," but Sam rolled off him. Turning to face him, Dean reached out and pulled Sam in close.

"Cuddling, Dean?"

"Shut up, Sam."


End file.
